Turning Points
by Baloo
Summary: [Incomplete] Sarah took more than just the child when she defeated the Labyrinth---and now Jareth needs it back in order to save the Underground. If only it were that simple...
1. Blame it on Stress

**Summary**: Summary: Sarah took more than just the child when she defeated the Labyrinth--and now Jareth needs it back in order to save the Underground. If only it were that simple... 

**Disclaimer:** So far, only unnamed mystery man belongs to me. 

  
  
  
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Turning Points 

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Chapter 1: Blame it on Stress 

  
  
"Borderline personality disorder" - the pages of the book flipped over idly - "core features are impulsivity and instability in relationships, mood and self-image" - white sheets fluttered momentarily in the air before succumbing to gravity - "excessive fear of abandonment... likely to coincide with an Axis I mood disorder" - unread, unviewed, as the facts were recited off by memory. But more importantly, untouched. From the other end of the bedroom Sarah twined her bare legs around the cool metal legs of her chair. A sliver of pages hung, for an instant, in the air at a perfect ninety degree angle, waiting and unmoving, until concentration was abandoned and they fell, once again servant to the laws of physics. 

"Okay, okay, got that," she muttered, dropping her head back as she leaned into the seat. Ooh, big mistake. Her already damp shirt stuck instantly to her spine, creating an unbearable sticky-sweat feeling. Summer had come early to California this year, and she was left wondering, once again, _why_ exactly she had chosen a school out here. 

Ah yes, the sun, the fun, the beaches... all those wonderful things that had been all but forbidden to her back home, where winter lasted about half the year and spring and fall took up the other six months. Summer was that two-week period that snuck in usually early August and disappeared before school started up in September. 

But who knew it would take so much getting used to? It wasn't the heat that bothered her so much, but the muggy nature of it. The humidity and the smog and the heavy, oppressive feeling in the air when no saving breeze was to be found. It wouldn't have been so bad, if it weren't for the studying. Just four more exams, two more weeks, and then she would be all ready for enjoying this heat. Until then though, she felt like a chicken, slowly roasting in the oven. 

A long, out-drawn exhale of air and she started anew. "Histrionic personality disorder..." God, she wished she had sprung for an air conditioner when she moved into this place. Never having had need for one before, she hadn't been able to see the logic in sparing three hundred dollars for the device. Of course, with the heat wave in full blow, getting one now would have emptied out her entire bank account. "Overly dramatic, attention-seeking, emotionally shallow, seductive" - a snort and a wry grin - "Ha! Who do I know that fits _that_ description?" 

She pulled the t-shirt away from her damp body, tried billowing it to create a bit of cool air, then gave up. Times like these, she wished she were brave enough to go au natural. Even though she was the only one in the apartment, and her curtains could easily be pulled shut - it wasn't as if the open window made it more bearable anyway - she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Stringent upbringing, she blamed it on. She wasn't a Californian yet - not by any stretch of the imagination. 

"Narcissistic personality disorder - do I even need to start that?" She rolled her eyes, then ran her fingers through damp hair, lifting it away from her head with a slight grimace. Maybe, she thought, glancing in the mirror, maybe it was time to cut it. Something short, chic, a little more accommodating to the weather. 

She dropped the dark locks. Maybe later. 

"No more studying tonight!" she declared suddenly, and the textbook at the other end of the room slammed shut in accordance. Almost leaping from her seat in small, pseudo-renewal of energy, she glanced at the clock - 2:44 a.m. "My, how time flies when you're wasting away your youth." 

The light flicked off as she flopped onto the bed, sheets and covers dangling forgotten at the foot. She briefly considered taking a shower to cool down, but abandoned the idea almost immediately. Relief would only last so long as she was in the water, but once out - it would be back to this. Besides, she just didn't have the energy to make it any further tonight. 

"Oh right," she said, suddenly remembering she had forgotten to set her alarm. No classes tomorrow, but she wanted to make sure she was up early, to pick up right where she'd left off tonight. 

The little clock was on her nightstand, all the way at the other side of the bed. Had she reached for it manually, it would have required her rolling over at least once, maybe even twice, then groping to push that little switch over to the right slot - but, lucky her, all she needed was a little bit of concentration and.... there! 

Telekinesis had its advantages. 

  


~*~

  
She was dreaming, although it didn't _feel_ like a dream. She only knew it was because, well, she suddenly no longer had a body. 

Drifting aimlessly in a room she had never been in before, though it tugged at her heart, vaguely familiar. Stone walls, adorned in occasional tapestries. Furniture carved so intricately, of such beautiful wood, she would have felt uncomfortable sitting in it - had that been an issue, but of course it wasn't, since she had nothing with which to sit - enough to have made her stepmother drool with envy. 

At one end of the room, a fire burned heartily and she cringed at the sight. Why in the world would anyone have a fire going in _this_ heat? Then a sense of realization hit her and she would have smacked herself upside the head - had she had a hand or a head to do it with. 

Something tells me we're not in California anymore, Toto. 

Voices suddenly broke the peace, and she unconsciously drew back into the shadows, not wanting to risk exposure - despite the fact that she was invisible, and despite the fact that this was all just a dream. 

Her non-existent eyes widened in disbelief as she saw the voices' owners enter the room, heart coming to an abrupt stop at the sight of one member of the pair. 

"I don't see what you expect me to do," he tossed over his shoulder before heading toward a particularly lush-looking armchair, located next to the fireplace. He draped himself over the cushion with such practiced ease, as if looking elegantly bored were as easy as breathing, she mentally rolled her eyes while regarding him enviously. Showoff. 

His companion took a seat across from him, leaning back into the contours of the chair as well, but there was a certain tension in his shoulders that belied his true state. Wavy brown hair crowned his head, in a mussed up look that suggested he had just climbed out of a shower - or a swim - and not bothered to comb it after it had dried. Tall, she'd noted from the seconds before he'd taken his seat, about as tall as _him_; broad shoulders and an athlete's build, not thick, but not too slender. She would have called him young, perhaps in his twenties, but something in those rolling blue eyes spoke of years much greater than she could imagine. 

Despite that, he looked fairly normal - not like his highness over there - his clothes simple, though neither cheap nor tattered. But casual, like one who didn't give much time or energy to such trivial details, a sharp contrast to the rich maroon frock coat, matching pants and gleaming black boots of his companion. Someone she could easily imagine running into on the streets of her own city. And a real hottie, she thought with a slight grin; he'd really fit right in. Normally, she might have taken more time to appreciate the view, but right now her concentration was broken by _his_ distracting presence. 

After four years, she hadn't expected to ever see _him_ again - and certainly not in her dreams. And what a dream! Two guys having a conversation about what, she had no idea. 

"I expect you to take this as seriously as the rest of us," his cute friend returned, and though his voice was low and even, she could sense the impatience in him. 

"I am taking this seriously," came the reply, complete with narrowed eyes and a slight downturn of his mouth. "And I am doing everything within my power to combat this." 

"No, not _everything_," hottie countered, leaning forward in his seat. She could sense something big coming, but not something unexpected, not for the pair in question, at least. There was a certain feeling of anticipation in the air, with an "I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it, but I think you're going to say it anyway, so now I'm waiting for it" feel about it. Well, okay, maybe that was a little too specific, but something along those lines, certainly. "Jareth" - she curled her lip in disdain at the sound of that name - "you have to bring her here." 

Anger flashed in those eyes - the cool, disturbingly undisturbed gaze she suddenly remembered all too well. "No, absolutely not," he returned, shaking his platinum head, the fire throwing in strange orange highlights. "After she left, I decided she would never step a foot back into the Underground again." 

Uh-oh, Sarah suddenly had a sneaking suspicion she knew just who they were talking about. And she was not liking this conversation... 

"You hardly have a choice in the matter," the other man insisted. "You need her - we need her." 

No, she was not liking it at all... 

"No one needs her, least of all me!" The abrupt response, the anger in the tone, was enough to silence his companion at least momentarily. 

Then, finally, in a quieter voice, "Don't you care about what's happening? Would you risk everything for your pride?" He shook his head, cinnamon-colored hair falling over his forehead. "Would you risk your Labyrinth?" 

Jareth's jaw tightened at the last question, but he kept quiet. His friend patiently awaited his reply. It seemed he was actually pleased by the response he was receiving; Sarah shuddered to think what would have been the reaction if this had gone over badly. "Even if I agreed to do it... I highly doubt she would consent to helping us. And as long as she doesn't want to help us, it doesn't make a difference. We need her cooperation." 

A smile appeared on the other man's face, and it looked more natural than the stern, serious expression he had worn earlier. A victory, albeit small, it seemed was at hand. "I'll take care of that," he answered self-assuredly. "You just get her here." 

The Goblin King raised one eyebrow, a faint hint of amusement adorning his features. "Though I admire your confidence, my friend, I'm afraid it's not quite as easy as that. You haven't met her. When you do, you'll see what I mean." 

The wave of a hand was his response and Sarah wrinkled her nose in distaste. If they were indeed talking about her, mystery man's attitude was not winning him any points. She was not that easily persuaded. It looked like she would have to teach him a little lesson in the unpredictability of the female gender - if this dream did indeed last long enough for her to get to that point. Because, she was absolutely, one-hundred-percent sure that was all it was: a dream. A crazy, whacked-out dream of a person she had no wish to remember, and another person she had never met. It didn't have to make sense; it just had to be a reasonably sane explanation. Her life was strange enough as it was, without adding in this little complication. 

Abruptly, Jareth lifted himself from his seat and headed toward the door. "I don't know about you, but I've had enough of this topic for tonight. How about a little distraction?" 

His friend followed suit, a slow grin appearing on his face as blue eyes sparked with interest. "I don't know about that. Your 'distractions' never end well for me." 

Hmm, how quickly the mood had shifted. Bolder now with their impending exit, Sarah moved out from the shadows, gliding forth, nearer to the center of the room. 

A smirk was his response, along with the words, "Well, perhaps if you learned to run a little faster, things would turn out better." 

Rich laughter rang through the room, the tension lifted in a matter of moments since the decision had been made. Sarah watched the duo leave the room, Jareth first. Suddenly, the second man paused, turning in place as he faced the room. Those strange, shifting eyes swung and landed right on the place to which she'd moved. Her breath caught in her throat and she froze. 

She wasn't physical, she wasn't really there, he couldn't see her - right? 

Apparently, he didn't agree, judging from the slight downward twitch of his mouth as he studied the spot intently. Abruptly, the expression shifted, and a smile, slow but wide, replaced the frown. 

But it didn't make her breathe any easier. 

"Are you coming, or did you get lost?" a sarcastic voice drawled out. 

Not breaking his gaze, his friend returned, "Miss me already? Don't worry, I'm coming." He remained a moment longer, staring directly at her, then, without warning, turned on his heel and left. 

She let out a breath of air she wasn't even sure she'd held. 

  


~*~

  
When Sarah woke up the next morning to the sound of her alarm clock blaring some hideous, yet disturbingly popular, tune, the "dream" was all but forgotten. 

  
  
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TBC

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Well, whaddya all think? I hope it wasn't confusing... it all works in my head---I just have to make sure I do the same on the paper. Please, tell me what you think! 


	2. Put Yer Dukes Up

**A/N:** You guys are great! I had no idea I would get such a response... in fact, you motivated me to write another chapter already, when I was actually planning on waiting a few days. And yes, yes, all questions will be answered in due time. 

  
  
  


**Turning Points **

  
Chapter 2: Put Yer Dukes Up 

  
  
Sarah was officially one day into her summer vacation as she fumbled to the front door of her apartment building, suitcase in hand and an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. The amount of luggage may have seemed a little excessive for a two-week trip, but she never could foresee what she'd need when she went back home. Especially in the summer, the weather tended toward unpredictability - it could be raining, it could be warm, a cold spell or record-breaking heat wave. And the only clothes she'd left behind when she moved out were her heavy winter wear, which she was sure she wouldn't be needing for the four years - at minimum - she intended to remain out in the west coast. She would have given them away to goodwill, but her step-mom had protested. 

"And what about when you come down in the winter for Christmas?" - Take a hint, witch, I don't want to be anywhere _near_ you for my holidays - "What are you supposed to wear then? Your sunscreen and bathing suit?" - Jealousy, thine name is Middle Age - "Or did you think we'd go on a little shopping spree and buy you a whole new wardrobe every time you visited?" - Seven words, lady: Daddy can I borrow your credit card. 

What did she expect Sarah to do? Wear the same winter clothes for the next four years - the ones she'd bought in high school? You would think she, of all people, the little fashion plate herself, would understand. But no, apparently the only one in this universe who had to look good was Karen Sullivan-Williams. 

With these thoughts in mind, Sarah walked through the lobby, making her way to the taxi that waited to take her to the airport. She opened the door, propping it in place with one foot as she struggled to rotate and distort her luggage into a shape that could pass through the entrance - she would have used the telekinesis, except that last time she'd tried to pick up something vaguely this heavy, she'd dropped it on her foot and broken two toes, not an experience she wished to repeat anytime soon. This preoccupation of her attention was the reason why she didn't notice anything strange before it was too late. 

Her gaze was directed at the suitcase, dragging along on the ground, so the first thing she discovered was that instead of gray cement beneath her feet, as it should have been in her merry little world, there was dirt. 

And it was quiet, way too quiet for a sunny afternoon on her usually bustling street. And where had all the smog and the sun too hot from a gaping whole in the atmosphere gone? Something was not right. In fact, she would be so bold as to say that something was - definitely - wrong. 

Momentarily forgetting her luggage, Sarah glanced up. 

"Oh, no, no, no," she muttered, head shaking back and forth in disbelief. 

This. Was. Not. Happening. 

She was not standing on a hill, looking down on a sight she had beheld from the very same position four years earlier. Because this time, she had not said the words. This time, she had not wished anyone away. There really wasn't even anyone _to_ wish away. She liked all her friends - that's why they were her friends. And the only people who did drive her up the wall were currently awaiting her impending arrival, halfway across the country. If she were going to do any wishing away of individuals, it wouldn't be for another couple of days at least. 

So that was why this simply could not be real. 

Abruptly, she turned to rush back into the safety of her apartment building, but instead she smacked straight into something hard, and much warmer than a door. Leather-clad hands came up and grabbed her by the upper arms, steadying her. Sarah screamed, realizing who it was that held her, and pushed the chest into which she had run with all the might she could muster. She succeeded in freeing herself, but the momentum sent her stumbling backward until she lost her balance and landed _hard_ on her rear. 

Quickly - quicker than she could have imagined herself capable - she bound back to her feet, freeing the strap of her bag from her shoulder. Firmly grasped within her hands, she lifted it and swung, meanwhile praying there was nothing breakable and irreplaceable within it. 

Oh shit, my Discman! she thought in dismay, realizing its presence only too late. But her worries were for naught, since the target evaded her blow, swift and sure-footed as he practically leapt out of the way. 

"Sarah," the oh-so-familiar voice ground out - the one that would almost have been enough to stop her heart in place, if heard under different circumstances. Right now, adrenaline was making sure it kept up its healthy pace and more. "Sarah, stop!" he cried as he just barely danced out of the way of her second swing. 

"Send me back!" she returned, rounding up for a third attempt. By this point, she couldn't care less about the Discman - if it broke, it broke, and she would just try to pass it off on the warranty. Although she'd have quite the time explaining _that_ to the sales person. "Okay, so was it a mechanical error?" - "No, actually, a casualty of necessity. You see, I was trying to escape the Goblin King, and - Hey, wait a minute. What are you doing? Who are you calling? I wasn't finished my story here!" 

The third blow never aired. Her hands were caught up in a firm grasp, the bag falling harmlessly to the ground with a thwack! as her fingers pried open. But the struggle was far from over. 

Her hands may have been restrained, but her knee was not. In the classic move she'd mastered in the self-defense class taken last year, she brought her leg back slightly, building force. Before she could finish the motion, however, she was abruptly spun around and pinned - back against his chest, arm crossed over her own, wrists held together by a single hand. The other arm wrapped across her waist, keeping her firmly in place. 

Sarah froze in shock as she felt his warm breath tickling her ear. "Sarah, just listen to me." 

Listen? _Listen_ to him? How exactly was she supposed to do that when he had that horribly distracting body of his plastered right up against hers? 

"I am not here to harm you." 

Why, oh why, could she not have worn pants today? Instead, she had settled for this stupid little sundress - 

"You have my word on that." 

- and she could feel the material that clad his legs rubbing up against her own bare flesh. And don't even _think_ about his arm over your waist. How good it feels, how warm and nice. 

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she slumped against him. But the slight release of tension from her body must have convinced him of her willingness to comply, because his grip loosened and he turned her around to face him. 

"Sarah," he said, grasping her face in his gloved hands. 

She stared up at him, caught in that intense gaze, her own eyes wide with fear, apprehension and confusion at the jumble of emotions inside her. Her hands came up to rest against his chest. 

Then it happened. 

Something - a force - pushed itself straight through her palms and into Jareth's chest. He let out an angry, pain-tinged curse as he stumbled backward - whether from the shock of what she'd done, or the impact of the blow itself, she couldn't say. 

Horrified, Sarah stepped back away from him. She moved to bring her hand up to her mouth, but aborted the action immediately as she realized whatever it was that she had hit him with, it was still there. And it wasn't discriminating. With a gasp, she flung her hands away from her face, staring at them with pale face and rounded eyes. 

But it wasn't content to contain itself to that portion of her body. Soon a tingling feeling consumed her forearms, a tingling that led to an itching, and an itching that made way for a burning. In a matter of seconds, both arms felt as if they were on fire. The pain brought stinging tears to her eyes, and she bit her lip, muffling a cry that escaped as a whimper. 

OhGodohGodohGod, she frantically repeated in her head. What was this? Some sort of revenge? But no, that didn't make sense - it had attacked him first. 

Whatever it was, it was painful, and it was getting worse. 

After what felt like an eternity, though she knew it was mere seconds, fingers tipped her chin up. Through the swarm of her tears she could see his face staring down at her. For an instant their eyes locked, and then he whispered something, below the range of her hearing, and suddenly it all faded. Eyelids grew heavy and her limbs became dead weights she could no longer hold up. She collapsed, right into his waiting embrace. An arm came up behind her knees, lifting her into the air, and she couldn't even move to stop him. 

There was a strange shift in the air and she wanted to open her eyes, to see what had just happened. But she couldn't seem to manage that simple task, no matter how determinedly she tried. 

As she clung to the last few instants of awareness, she heard a voice tinted with mild concern, "Really, was that necessary?" Boots clicked on stone floor, and the cutting sound of cloth through air as one moved swiftly. 

And the irritated reply, in clipped tones, "_I_ didn't do this to her. She did it to herself." 

Oh right, go blame the unconscious girl. Jerk. When she woke up, she was going to give him a piece of her mind. 

But for now, she let the blackness claim her - as if she really had a choice in the matter. 

  
  
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TBC

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	3. Lesson #6

**Disclaimer:** I own only Alyn. 

  
  
  
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Turning Points 

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Chapter 3: Lesson #6 

  
  
The steel-toed boot-clad centipede doing the Riverdance inside her head was her first indication she was awake, not drifting in dreamland once again. Sarah groaned and lifted a hand to her temple. 

"Take it slowly," a voice advised - deep, male, but more importantly, not _his_. 

She opened one eye to brave a peak at the speaker, but the room was dimly lit, making the task quite difficult. A mere impression of brown hair and youthful face before the strain was too much for her head to handle and she had to close them once more. 

"Here." The other eye cracked open and caught sight of a tall glass of what looked, strangely, like milk proffered before her. 

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "No thanks," she managed through a scratchy throat. The mere idea of drinking it was doing all sorts of nasty things to her stomach. Water, maybe, she could manage, but that was all. 

"It'll settle your stomach, and help your head," he insisted gently, already helping her to sit up as he spoke. 

Sarah sighed, but didn't argue. If he claimed it would help her with her headache, she'd drink it, eat it, date it, pay for its children's way through college - whatever it took. Shaky hands grasped the glass, but she refused to allow him to hold it up to her mouth as if she were a child. Slowly, with painstaking care, she downed the liquid, waiting for the promised effects to kick in. 

Still sitting, eyes closed, head propped back into the bed behind her, she took a moment to collect her jumbled thoughts. When she reopened them, her gaze was immediately drawn to her caretaker, who sat in chair adjacent to the bed on which she lay. The fact that she was lying in some unknown bed with a complete stranger seated maybe three feet away from her was troubling, but she pushed it aside. 

"Who are you?" she inquired bluntly. 

If he was offended, he didn't show it. A slow smiled uncurled on his lips as he watched her through eyes that she could only define as dark in the scant lighting. "Ah, forgive my rudeness and allow me to introduce myself," he replied with a slight inclination of his head. "My name is Alyn." 

"Alyn," she repeated, testing it out. His voice was a pleasant rumble, accented similarly to that of a certain other individual of whom she chose not to think right now. "So, Alyn," she continued after a moment, "why exactly is it so dark in here?" 

He lifted an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat. "Well, I guessed you might have a headache, and your eyes would be sensitive to the light." 

"Well, I'm okay now, I can handle it," she answered, trying not to sound ungrateful. Clearly, he had _some_ concern for her well-being, even though she couldn't speak to his motives. But he had given her the drink, which was actually already beginning to make her feel better. Then again, maybe it was just some sort of placebo. 

He conceded with a nod of his head and suddenly the room flooded with light. 

It might have been impressive with anyone else, but for a girl who floated textbooks and other assorted objects in midair on a regular basis, it was hardly a large feat. And when you considered the fact that this same girl had also encountered and defeated the Goblin King and his Labyrinth, befriended a variety of the strange creatures along the way... well, you get the idea. 

Sarah blinked her eyes rapidly, allowing them to adjust to the sudden change. When she could finally see again, she turned back to Alyn - and found herself momentarily wondering if something had happened to her sight. Not that he was hideously deformed or anything. In fact, he was attractive, _very_ attractive. And his features - most of them - were nothing terribly astounding. Light brown hair, kind of unruly, though nothing compared to the wild do of a certain someone. Lean face with perfect planes. Skin tanned golden from hours out in the sun. 

No, all that was fine. It was his eyes that astounded her. The iris itself was a reasonable blue - a beautiful, deep indigo shade, yet reasonable nonetheless. But the whites of his eyes, or what _should_ have been the whites of his eyes, were actually a matching shade of pale blue. So pale, in fact, that that slight deviation had been negligible in the faint light, but now that she could see, it had a truly startling effect. 

But there was a strange sense of familiarity - aside from that one unique feature - as she looked upon him, though she couldn't explain it at all. Had they met before? No, they couldn't have. Certainly, she would have remembered someone who looked like _that_. 

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling. 

Embarrassment pinked her cheeks slightly as she realized she had been staring. She tore her gaze away. When she glanced back, she saw his face was serious, but amusement sparkled in those strange eyes. 

"Well, Alyn," she began after a while, "do you mind telling me exactly what I'm doing here?" 

Alyn gave a small sigh and leaned forward, propping his chin in his hand, a strangely disarming gesture. "Since you asked me _what_ you're doing here, and not _where_ you are, I'm assuming that you remember how you got here." 

Or who brought you here, she realized he was asking here. She nodded. Like she could forget that little experience. 

"Well then, Sarah, I've always favored the honest, straight-forward approach," he continued, his tone light and easy though his eyes bore into hers. "The truth is, you're here because we need you." 

Sarah shook her head, quickly finding the gesture did not complement her headache. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "Need me for what?" Knowing pretty well who the other component of that "we" was, she didn't bother to question it. 

He watched her thoughtfully before answering. "Tell me, have you noticed anything unusual in your life over say, the last four years or so?" She regarded him with a single arched brow and a pointed look, earning her a grin and a shake of his head. "Aside from that, I mean." 

"Such as what?" she immediately replied. And then, "Oh." She stared at him a moment. "You don't mean...?" She caught the look on his face. "But... how do you know about that?" 

"That's why you're here," he answered. "It's no coincidence that *you* have those abilities - the same person who defeated the Labyrinth." 

Confusion flitted across her features. "Oh no," she protested. "I didn't use those powers to win. I didn't even have them back then." No one could accuse _her_ of cheating, though the same could not necessarily be said of certain other individuals. 

Alyn leaned back in his seat once more, arms resting on the sides of the chair. "You have it backwards. You got those powers from defeating Jareth." 

A moment of silence before Sarah flew into a full-blown state of denial. "No way. No how. Not possible. They didn't even start up until nearly two years after I defeated him!" But even as she reasoned, some part deep inside of her wasn't buying her argument - some part that had long-existed, and had long-questioned why she, of all people, would be centered out not once, but twice, in the span of only a few years. First the Goblin King and a trip through his mythical Labyrinth, then telekinesis. 

Alyn seemed to recognize the self-doubt for what it was. "They manifested slowly because you never received any training - you didn't even know they were there. Anything you've learned to do with them is purely accidental, picked up through chance." His features were serious and gauging. "You have no idea how much potential you have." 

Letting out a frustrated groan, Sarah leaned back into her pillows. "Okay, say I believe you - that these powers really came from solving the Labyrinth - that still doesn't explain why you need _me_, or what for." She pulled her knees up to her chin, staring intently at the patterned material of her dress, which she realized she still wore from - earlier. Today, yesterday, she couldn't tell. She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious. 

"Those powers had to come from somewhere," he answered softly. "Nothing comes for free. They were taken from somewhere." 

Her eyes swung up in his direction. "Oh no, don't tell me..." He nodded, confirming her fears before they could even be voiced. "So what, he wants them back, is that it? Fine, he can have them - I really don't need them anyway." 

His head shook, throwing caramel-hued hair onto his forehead. "No, Sarah, he _can't_ have them back. What you've taken is yours, and yours to keep. And it's not as if you took them all - just half. Just enough to give you as much power over this place as Jareth has. But that's not the problem." 

"It's not?" She looked at him questioningly. "Then what is?" 

He sighed and rubbed his neck. "You have one half of the same power." Pausing briefly, letting it sink in. "You're connected, your powers are intertwined. When you went back home after... your victory... you left Jareth doubly weakened. Once from the power you'd taken from him, and twice from the fact that you took it so far away." 

"So what, we have to be _near_ each other?" she asked skeptically. "Is that what this is all about? He needs me near so he can be all big and tough and keep torturing teenaged girls? Well forget it!" she rushed on, not giving him a chance to respond. "I'm sorry if I've made his life so much more difficult" - no, she wasn't sorry at all - "but I'm not willing to just drop everything and run down here so he can continue to feel like the local hotshot. And if he wanted my help, he should have asked for it, not just kidnapped me off the street and knocked me unconscious! If there was even the faintest possibility that I would agree to help him, he's gone and ruined it now." 

Alyn frowned, a worried look on his face. "No, no," he placated, "it's not a permanent arrangement. You're not being asked to abandon your life to live here. We need you because we need Jareth's powers _right now_. Just temporarily. He only..." he hesitated on the word, "kidnapped you, because we figured there was no way you'd come back willingly." He paused briefly before continuing. "As for knocking you unconscious - from what I hear, it was for your own good." 

Sarah force herself to calm down. She was here already, there was no changing that, and if she wanted to get back, she had to keep her head. "What did happen, earlier, with that - thing - when he brought me back? Did he tell you about it?" 

He shook his head. "I'm not sure. You'd have to ask Jareth himself about that. But from what I can tell, it was probably a reaction to you being so near each other after all this time - your powers should be getting stronger now, for both of you." Then he ran a hand through his hair, a look of frustration upon his face. "But I can't understand why it reacted so _violently_. It should only have magnified your actions. I can't think of any reason why it would have turned on you." He shook his head again. "Like is I said though, you should ask Jareth." 

There was a moment of silence as Sarah tried to weigh her trust in his words. He _seemed_ like a nice enough guy. He hadn't threatened her, or ordered her, or demanded anything of her. All he'd done was plead out his case. But then, what was he doing hanging out with the Goblin King? Finally, she gave him a sidelong glance and inquired, "And what are you to him, besides soon-to-be-co-defendant?" She eyed his simple clothes, lacking the flash and adornment that the Goblin King preferred. And yet, there was something about his demeanor that made her doubt he was just some servant or henchman. 

He paused, considering the question. "I suppose we're allies... we share a certain understanding, and because of that, what you might call a friendship." 

"Oh, friends," she said distastefully. "I liked you much better when I thought you were just his goon." 

Alyn smiled, something seemed to do a lot of, and Sarah decided the expression looked good on him. "Jareth's not all that bad," he defended though his tone was hardly convincing. 

Sarah had a retort in hand, but never got a chance to answer because another voice broke in dryly. "It thrills me so to know I've earned such loyalty as that." 

Quickly, she dropped her hands to her side and straightened her legs on the bed. "Oh look who finally decided to brave an appearance," she bit out, turning to the open doorway to stare at her once-foe. "I was beginning to suspect you planned to hide away forever." 

The look on his face could best be described as mild amusement and he strolled through the room as if he owned it and everything within it - which, with the exception of Sarah and Alyn, was probably true. "Hardly Sarah. If I'd known you were awake, I would have dropped by sooner. Unfortunately, a certain someone" - he glared at Alyn, who, admirably, refused to cower or apologize under that intense stare - "failed to inform me, like he was supposed to." 

"Doing me a favor, I suppose," Sarah answered for him. "Or maybe himself. Who knows which of us would prefer to avoid your presence more?" 

Jareth looked toward his friend. "Didn't I tell you she was a difficult one?" 

Sarah's eyes narrowed, something in his statement triggering a memory. 

_"... I'm afraid it's not quite as easy as that. You haven't met her. When you do, you'll see what I mean."_

"My dream!" she declared suddenly, taking the room's occupants by surprise. "You were in it," she told Jareth, her face playing a slight wonder at the revelation. His mouth began to curl into a slight smile, but before he could make a remark - which, no doubt, would have been either crude or self-congratulatory, or both - she turned to Alyn and continued. "You too." The unborn smile on Jareth's face never quite saw the light of day, as confusion took its place. Alyn, however, took it in stride, his expression betraying nothing. 

She hastily continued, "You were talking. About me, I think. You wanted me here," she said, still looking at Alyn, then she turned to Jareth, "And _you_ didn't." 

In the ensuing silence, Sarah looked toward the pair, taking in their varying reactions. The Goblin King looked - upset? - well, irritated, to say the least. He glared openly at his friend, who seemed to be struggling to suppress laughter, while he wore a look that discreetly read, "I told you so." Sarah frowned, not quite following what was going on before her. 

"Don't you even start," Jareth growled menacingly, his mouth drawn tight. 

The other man shook his head, all wide eyes and purported innocence. He chose not to speak, though she suspected the decision had more to do with self-preservation instincts than anything else. 

A pause, then Jareth spoke again, "I have things to attend to. You" - he directed toward Alyn - "do as you agreed." He glanced at Sarah then, who watched him with confusion etching her features, a reaction to the abrupt change in his demeanor. "We'll speak later." 

Her mouth gaped open as she watched him turn to leave. We'll speak later? 

What. The. Hell. 

He kidnapped her, took her from right off the street while she was on her way to visit her family - and not to mention her moment of near-spontaneous combustion upon his sudden and uninvited reentrance into her life. And they'd speak later? Oh no, she decided resolutely. 

In her heated anger, she somehow managed the energy required to lift herself to her knees, calling out after him before he could pass through the threshold of the room. "We will _not_ speak later. We'll speak _now_." 

The Goblin King froze, his back rigid as her words were absorbed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned around. Gazing into his face Sarah was sure she felt the temperature of the room abruptly drop several degrees. "Oh, we will, will we?" he inquired in a voice low and dangerous, and all the more frightening for its seeming calmness. 

She fought the urge to shrink back and snuck a quick glance toward Alyn. Even Jareth's friend, beneath his luscious tan, had paled several degrees. 

Suddenly she found herself remembering all that she had learnt from her initial trip to this place. Mental fingers whirred through the figurative Rolodex, desperately searching out the hard-learned lesson. Now, let's see... Lesson #1: Don't say *the words* unless you mean them. Nope, not it. Lesson #2: Fairies are evil little things. No, no, still not there - a little jump ahead. Lesson #9: Don't invite the goblins back to your place after your victory - goblin droppings embedded in the carpet make for difficult explanations, and stubborn stains. Oops, too far... a couple of steps back and... there! 

Lesson #6: Don't antagonize the Goblin King. 

Well now, too little, too late. 

  
  
**

TBC

**


	4. Coming Down With Something

  
  
  
**

Turning Points 

**

  
Chapter 4: Coming Down With Something 

  
  
Intimidated, yes; apprehensive, without a doubt; frightened, more than just a little. But Sarah was not one to allow herself to be backed into a corner. She straightened her spine and met the cold gaze of the Goblin King, ignoring all warning signs that went off in her head. She knew the foolishness of her response even as she acted, but stubborn pride kept her from backing down. 

"Yes, _now_," she answered his question in a tone, though impressive, was no match for his. Feeling a little ridiculous, trying to stare him down while she knelt on the bed, legs still slightly entangled in the covers, she pulled herself free, ignoring the flaring nausea and sudden flushed sensation, as struggled to stand. 

It was a mistake, the move, for the moment her bare feet hit the cold stone floor, she found her legs turned to jelly and her stomach lurched up into her throat. Almost as if in slow motion, she watched the ground rush up to meet her as she pitched forward. 

Damn, she was going to fall flat on her face right in front of him and completely lose whatever little dignity she had maintained. 

In her mind of course, it was obvious that she was going to fall, that no one would catch her. Alyn, though he mostly likely would have done it had he been afforded the opportunity, was unfortunately on the other side of the bed, shooting to his feet the moment he saw her stumble. Even if he'd leapt over the bed, it would have been too late. So Sarah resigned herself to the very unpleasant inevitable of being intimately introduced to the floor. 

Well, not so inevitable after all, it seemed when she landed instead in a black-clothed embrace, Jareth's forearms hooking beneath her armpits. 

Great, this was the second time in so many encounters that she'd ended up falling into his arms. The guy was going to start getting ideas. All prepared to let him know just how much she wasn't enjoying the repeated physical contact, thus nipping those little thoughts in the bud, she opened her mouth to speak. That was what she _was_ going to do, what she had every _intention_ of doing. Instead, she threw up. 

Okay, that would certainly send a message. 

There was a moment that followed, ripe with silence, as each of the room's occupants considered how to react. Or as Jareth and Alyn most likely considered how to react---Sarah currently had more pressing concerns on her mind. For instance, how was _Jareth_ going to react? 

I threw up on the Goblin King. Does that count as antagonizing? Well, he isn't going to be happy about it, so I guess it does. 

She stared down at the mess, eyes wide in semi-shock. At least it was mostly contained to those not-so-shiny-anymore black boots of his, not like down the front of his shirt or anything. Right Sarah, keep telling yourself that and maybe you can even believe he'll just laugh the whole thing off. And let's not forget how moments ago you were all Miss I-Defy-You. 

"Oops," she managed to moan, or something to that effect. Actually, it came out sounding more like "Ooo" as if she were somehow, dementedly, admiring her handiwork, which indeed she wasn't. In fact, if it wasn't for her continued lack of control over her limbs, she would be currently be backing away rather quickly from her handiwork and the man on whom it was being displayed. 

Slowly, she blinked, and found herself sagging further into his arms. Perspiration had gathered on her forehead and upper lip, and had little to do with the unease she felt considering his response. In fact, she wasn't so worried about Jareth's reaction anymore, as her eyes fluttered closed and her stomach settled, promising at least no repeat performances anytime soon. It might have been considered rude, passing out on him now, but suddenly she was so very tired and she couldn't push away the welcoming unconsciousness that blanketed her. 

She felt herself being lifted and placed on the bed, and it seemed that the room had abruptly been consumed in a flurry of motion and conversation. A cool hand rested on her forehead and she managed to open one eye momentarily to find herself staring into twin pools of sapphire. "A little flushed, but no fever." Her eye closed and the hand drifted away. "Must have just been the exertion." 

"Yes, I'm aware of her exertion. I happen to be covered in it." Laughter followed and she could almost _hear_ the answering glare. The laughter ceased abruptly, on a strange choking note. 

"I meant before that... I gave her something for her stomach," a somewhat contrite continued. "It was supposed to help her." 

Eyes still closed, Sarah managed to murmur a response. "It did. I feel much better now." She allowed a tiny smile to grace her lips as she slipped into a slumber. 

  


~*~

  
The second time she awoke she was alone, but feeling much better. Her stomach really had settled after its little evacuation, and her head was clear and light. She felt rested, renewed, almost at ease---and only almost because despite she still dreaded her next encounter with a certain somebody. 

There was a window off to one side of the room, one that had previously gone unnoticed, probably having been covered by the heavy curtains that now hung off to one side. It revealed a bright sky and plenty of sunshine, letting her know that it was day, maybe late afternoon. She didn't know how long she'd slept, but it the rest had certainly seemed to do the trick. She bound out of the bed and sought out her sandals quickly, the seconds her bare flesh spent in contact with the ground making her realize just why people didn't build houses with stone floors anymore. 

When she had her shoes firmly in place, she glanced about the room and decided to do a little exploring before she ventured off any further in the castle. It was a nice enough room, large and airy with beautiful furniture, and though it was impressive, she could honestly say she wasn't awed. Not her sort of thing anymore, she'd outgrown the medieval flavor, the castles, the long flowing gowns, the knight on his proud white steed... Hell, these days she's settled for a guy who could manage to be at least pleasant-looking while maintaining a semi-intelligent conversation. The multi-tasking sort. 

With a slight sigh, she plodded through the room, stopping before a very large piece of furniture she took to be a wardrobe. She contemplated a moment whether she really wanted to see what was inside there, knowing as she did that she wasn't going to wear anything that could be described as "long and flowing," especially not if it had been hand-picked by her reluctant host. 

But, she reconsidered, fingering her dress, she _had_ been wearing this for who knows how long. She'd fallen sleep in it twice, and she'd worn it during that last incident. Maybe it was time to change into something a little fresher. Finally, she threw the doors open. Her eyes took in the expanses of the closet and found... nothing. Sarah's shoulders drooped in disappointment. 

Unconsciously, she gave a slight pout and glanced down, only to find that the wardrobe wasn't quite empty after all. On the bottom, neatly stacked on the heavy oak flooring, were both her suitcase and her overnight bag. 

"Oh great, I'm vacationing in the Underground." 

She stared a moment at the sight, put her hands on her hips and contemplated her reaction. Afraid? Not quite. Angry? She knew she should be, and chances were she would be as soon as she was blessed---she rolled her eyes here---by her next encounter with Jareth, but right now she wasn't. Happy? Hell no! Don't even let your mind wander in that direction. 

Confused, she finally decided. She was just plain old confused. 

Giving a slight shrug, she decided to follow through on her original intentions, and unzipped her suitcase, pulling out a pair of comfortable jeans and a light shirt. As far as weather considerations went, it was fairly flexible, but at the same time it was very neutral. Neutral and comfortable, everything that her little sundress, oh so appropriate back in sunny California, suddenly wasn't. She slipped on the clothes and not knowing what to do with the dress, ended up tossing it on the bed. Hey, this was a castle---he should be able to spring for a Molly Maid service, or whatever its Underground equivalent was. 

The last thing she did before leaving the room was exchange her clunky sandals for a sensible pair of runners. Just on the off chance that this was going to be one of those vacations that required a bit of running for your life. 

She peaked out into the hallway, door cracked only slightly open, expecting, for a moment, to see a couple of goblin guards perched outside the room. There were none. Relieved and disappointed, both at once, she slipped out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. The corridors were empty, almost unnaturally so, and Sarah wandered through them cautiously, making only the barest noise as her feet met the ground. 

Every corner she rounded, she expected to run into some ugly little creature with a sharp stick and severely lacking in manners, but it seemed that she was the only one in the castle up for traveling today. At first it was a relief, but after a while, it bordered on eerie. Eventually, she gave up all pretense of being subtle and ambled through the halls, making as much noise as she pleased. She put her hands in her pockets and whistled loudly, purposely scuffing her shoes along the floor as she walked. Maybe someone would appear to tell her to cut out the racket, she thought somewhat hopefully. 

Suddenly, a flash of movement grabbed her attention from the corner of her eye. Turning, she caught sight of a figure moving hurriedly down the hallway, away from her. She certainly hadn't passed anyone, so whomever it was they must have come from one of the many corridors that branched off the main passageway. But what really drew her notice was the fact that it wasn't a goblin she was looking it, rather a very human-looking creature. Or at least from the back it looked human. Who knows, if it turned around maybe she'd find a snout or one eye or little horns protruding from its forehead. 

Still, it was worth a try. "Hey!" she called loudly. And she'd never seen anyone with horns before. It could be interesting. 

But for whatever reason, the person paid no heed to her cry, and continued on at that hasty pace. Sarah decided to follow. It wasn't as if she had anywhere else to go, and she was desperate for some company of the non-royal kind. "Wait up!" she continued, wondering if maybe this person was just unaware she was speaking to them. She picked up her pace, realizing the gap between them was increasing. Following the twists and turns the figure took, she didn't pay attention to where they were going. 

"You in the nondescript, drab-colored shirt and the equally drab, brown potato-sack material pants!" Okay, now she definitely knew she was being ignored. Who wouldn't at least turn around to see what the commotion was about? 

Soon, she came around a corner to find herself facing an empty, silent hallway and she stopped abruptly. "Yeah, well, who wanted to talk to you anyway?" Sighing, she leaned against the hard stone wall. 

Tucking her long hair behind her ears, she glanced over her surroundings. Oh great, now she had no idea where she was. Well, no need to panic. If she kept walking, she was bound to run into someone, even if only Jareth. She grimaced at the thought. She was not looking forward to that, especially after what had happened at their last encounter. On the brink of consciousness, it had seemed kind of funny, but now she was just embarrassed. Okay, still a _little_ amused, but also very embarrassed. 

Or maybe she'd run into Alyn, she thought brightly. Now there was a much better alternative. He'd been nice and informative, helped her out with her headache---if not her stomach---and on the plus side, she hadn't thrown up on _him_. 

So she resumed walking, but it seemed she was getting nowhere and she quickly became bored. To combat the boredom, she began trying the occasional door she passed along the way. Some of them were locked, and those that weren't just looked like empty guestrooms, not unlike the one she'd awoken in. These too lost her interest quickly, and nowhere along the way had she even received a sign of any other life within this cavernous castle, her earlier experience aside. Sarah was almost ready to scream in frustration. Hell, she was tempted to call _his_ name out loud, just in hopes that he would hear and rescue her from this monotony. But pride saved her that experience. 

She tried another door and... jackpot! Well, it wasn't another bedroom, and right now, that was enough for her. 

As she stepped into the room, taking in the furniture, the setting, the fireplace, she realized with a start that this was the very room from her "dream." But she was now rapidly beginning to doubt that memory had been a dream at all, especially after seeing Jareth's reaction to her words earlier, although she couldn't say what else it might be. Before she could consider the matter any further, her concentration was drawn to the large open window at the far end of the room. She found herself drifting toward it, for a closer look. 

Her hands rested on the almost uncomfortably low sill as she glanced out the open space. She was looking down at the labyrinth, she realized with a slight thrill. The twists, the turns, the hedges, the dark owners. How did I ever make it through _that_ in thirteen---no, closer to nine actually---hours? 

It was impressive, even now, even after all this time, as she gazed upon it from her new vantage point. Off to the right, she could make out the "goblin city" through which she'd madder her way in that final stretch four years earlier. She must be on the eastern side of the castle. 

"It's quite something, isn't it?" a voice inquired from far, far too nearby. 

To her credit, Sarah didn't scream, although she did jump nearly a foot up into the air before quickly turning around. He was standing so close, her hair actually whipped against his arm as she whirled to face him. It was the collar of his shirt that came into sight first, as she'd temporarily forgotten how much taller he was, and then she glanced up, into his too amused gaze. 

She inhaled sharply, seeing how close they stood, and stepped back instinctively. Her eyes widened as she felt her rear hit the low sill and still she continued to stumble backward. Her hands grabbed Jareth's shirt at the same instant he gripped her upper arms, both of them preventing her fall. 

Sarah stared momentarily at her fists, bunching the silk material of his shirt at his chest. Then realization sank in and she dropped her hands, lightning-quick, as if burned. Carefully side-stepping until her back hit firm wall, she finally allowed herself to yank free of his hold. He released her easily, but didn't move away, didn't afford the space she so obviously desired. 

She glared at him, not at all pleased with his method of announcing his presence and Jareth endured the look with infuriating nonchalance. Hoping he'd take the hint and back off, she snapped out when he didn't, "Ever heard of personal space?" 

He grinned slowly, predatorily, "Am I making you uncomfortable?" 

For a moment, she was tempted to push _him_ out the window, but knowing the bastard, he'd probably take her with him. Then she smiled sweetly, placing a hand on her stomach. "Now that you mention it, I am beginning to feel a little queasy." 

That knocked the smile right off his face, she noted with satisfaction. An expression of distaste passed over his oh-so regal features. "Point taken." He backed away. 

From a safe distance, he looked her over. In a disappointed tone, he said, "You changed." 

Sarah stared back at him for several long seconds, all prepared to jump at his throat, to ask him what the hell _that_ meant. Then she realized he was talking about her clothes. 

She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. "Yeah, well, after passing out a couple of times, and not to mention other things, I was beginning to feel a bit... stale in the last set." 

Still, he frowned. "Too bad," he murmured thoughtfully, "I was enjoying the view." 

She felt her eyes widen involuntarily, then she quickly clamped down on all reaction, forcing herself to present the same indifference he managed to display. Glancing away, she aimlessly walked about the room, stopping to lean on the solid frame of a chair. "Where's Alyn?" she asked, looking for any suitably distracting... distraction. 

The click of Jareth's boots against the floor indicated his return to the window. Funny how she hadn't noticed that when he came in. "He had other concerns to attend to. Ones that rank above playing nursemaid." Was it just her imagination, or was his tone suddenly a bit colder than before? 

"Such as what?" she inquired curiously. She still had no idea what Alyn _did_, what it was that required him to make alliances with the Goblin King. 

"Such as ones with which you should not worry yourself," he replied shortly. 

Sarah turned toward him, but he was gazing out the window. "Fine. Then here's something that should and does worry me---what the hell am I doing here?" Now he did look at her. "Why did you bring me back now when you've been doing just fine with whatever powers you had left during the past four years?" 

He sat down on the windowsill, brought one leg up casually, no fear of losing balance evident in his tension-free body. Propping his chin up in one hand, he grinned at her and replied, "Maybe I've just missed you." 

She frowned at him and placed her own hands on her hips. No way she was going to let him distract her from getting her answers. "And maybe I'm starting to feel nauseous again." Yep, that made sense. It certainly explained the strange feeling she got in her stomach every time he looked at her like that, smiled, or made one of his unexpected comments. She was definitely coming down with something, something she must have caught before he transported her over. 

His grin widened and she felt her eyes being drawn to his lips, and she told herself the _only_ reason why she was even wondering what it would be like to kiss that mouth was because if she had caught something, she sure as hell wanted to make sure she passed it along to him. 

Yes, that was all. Nothing more to it. Nothing at all. 

Shut up. 

  
  
**

TBC

**


	5. Who's Making this Harder?

  
  
  
**

Turning Points 

**

  
Chapter 5: Who's Making This Harder? 

  
  
"Come here," Jareth beckoned her forth, completely unaware of the battle raging deep within her. Sarah stared at him blankly, at those gloved fingers as they curled slightly with the gesture. "Oh come now, I promise to keep my hands to myself." He raised them in plain sight, a surrendering position, though his expression was anything but. 

It's not _your_ hands I'm worried about, Sarah mentally conceded, but she said nothing and followed as he bade, because he'd made his assurance and he had to yet to ever go back on his word with her. Besides, how was she supposed explain her true fear to him? 

She inched her way forward, with almost comical reluctance, arms crossed defensively below her chest. He watched her carefully, one eyebrow arched in response to her unenthusiastic movements, but he made no comment. Finally, she stood beside him at the window. Well, parallel to him, though she'd safely taken position as far from him as possible while still managing to achieve an unobstructed view of the sight below them. 

"Well?" she inquired, making it clear she was coming no closer. 

He paused before speaking and when he did, she couldn't read the expression on his face. "What do you see? Down there," he gestured toward the vision beyond with a slight inclination of his head. 

"What?" Sarah shook her head, watching him momentarily, but he didn't elaborate, only regarded her expectantly. So with an eventual sigh, she glanced down, took in the sight she'd viewed only minutes earlier, and finding nothing remarkably new, returned her gaze to him. "The labyrinth," she answered simply. 

He almost seemed to sigh at her response, but instead he spoke, "Beyond that, Sarah," with a shake of his head. Clearly, her answer had left something wanting. "Perhaps what I should say is what do you _feel_?" 

Feel? She felt the corner of her mouth twitch, but managed to keep the movement under tight control. Well, that was a loaded question. But she gazed back at the labyrinth and let herself re-evaluate it in terms of what he seemed to want of her. What she saw was the labyrinth. Simple as that. But what did she feel? What was she _supposed_ to feel? Awe? Fear? Relief? Regret? 

_Wrongness_. 

Woah, where had that come from? No matter, whatever the source, it was the truth. Something was definitely--- 

"Wrong. Something's wrong," she blurted out. "It feels---" She glanced over at Jareth, found his intense gaze on her face and, strangely, that "safe gap" between them didn't seem all that large anymore. Or safe. 

"Wrong?" he finished, a slight twist to his lips. 

Oh, he thought she was funny, did he? 

"Sick," she completed stubbornly, not giving him even that little victory. Because it was true, though she hadn't realized it until she'd spoken the words aloud. 

He almost seemed taken aback, and the amused sparkle disappeared from his eyes. "Yes," he conceded finally. "It is. That's exactly it." 

Ha, whaddya know? I actually guessed right. Point one for Sarah. 

"But how? Why?" she asked curiously. Suddenly, a dreadful sensation sank into the pit of her stomach. "It wasn't---?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the thought, but it was okay because he didn't let her. 

"No, it had nothing to do with that." Well, it was a topic that neither of them was all that eager to discuss, a single point of consensus between them. She studied his profile while he studied his labyrinth. "It isn't just the labyrinth either. It's the whole of the Underground. There is some sort of 'sickness' spreading about, infecting the land, the water, the air. And it's slowly destroying them all. I hesitate to call it a disease though because as far as we can tell, it appears to be a deliberate attack." 

Sarah stared at him, startled. Destroying the Underground? Something powerful enough to destroy the *entire* Underground and he was relying on her return to fix it? And not just him either, she realized, remembering Alyn's earlier words. It looked like there were others banking on that same hope. That earlier sense of dread was rapidly returning. 

"That's why the others, such as Alyn, are involved. We are all looking for a solution, but I can't be of much help when I'm working at... less than full capacity." He finished the sentence with a distasteful grimace, though he kept his face turned forward, so she would not have seen it if she weren't watching him so intently. 

She could see how hard this was for him. It was difficult to maintain one's arrogant, superior, self-congratulatory image when being forced to admit to a mere mortal---one who, incidentally, had defeated you four years earlier in your own game---that you *needed* them. In fact, it must have been downright painful. 

She was going to enjoy this. 

Oh sure, maybe it was wrong to take such personal pleasure when he had just informed her that the whole Underground was essentially falling apart and no one knew how to stop it. But you take your moments as you get them. And right now, she was getting one too good to simply pass up. 

"And where do I come into all this?" she asked innocently. Well, innocent was what she was going for, but it seemed she didn't quite hit the mark, judging from the way his jaw clenched in response. 

"I'm sure Alyn explained this to you," he managed with exaggerated calmness. 

"Oh he started to," she replied airily, "But then we were kind of interrupted. You remember, don't you?" She ventured a glance at his face, and yes, he remembered. Was it just her imagination or could she hear his teeth grinding? "Anyway, so the conversation just left off there." 

After a brief pause, he spoke without looking at her. "If we're to find out who or what is doing this, and how to stop it, we need to draw on all the available resources." 

Sarah scoffed and placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, so now I'm a _resource_. Just set up camp and get out your picks, we're mining for untapped powers!" Her biting remark drew his gaze this time, and she could see the controlled fury of emotions just below the surface. 

"If there were any way around this, I would have already taken it," he snapped in return. "But there isn't, and at least _I_ can manage to put aside my own pride for a moment, even if you can't." 

"What are you talking about?" she demanded. "What does my pride have to do with any of this?" 

"Why are _you_ making this so difficult?" he replied in a fiercely quiet voice, peering down at her with something like frustration and irritation mixing in his expression. 

Sarah's mouth gaped open. "You kidnapped me, you---" The thousand-and-one possible insults that came to mind died in her throat before she could voice any of them as she stared into that intimidating gaze. Let's not forget whom you're talking to, Sarah. Maybe the name-calling can wait until later. Like until after he leaves the room. "You brought me here against my will," she finished. 

"Was there any other way you would have come?" 

"That's supposed to justify this?" She couldn't believe this! Not at all. Forget apologizing for what he'd done, it sounded more as if he were blaming _her_ for making his approach necessary. She hadn't noticed this earlier, but during their little shouting match, they had gradually inched closer until there was only a couple of feet left between them. But she was still too distracted to pay it much care. 

"I don't have to justify anything," he replied more sedately. The cool, calm mask of the Goblin King was slipping back into place. "Yes, I brought you here. No, I didn't stop to inquire if you wanted to come. Yes, you have a right to be unhappy about it. No, I don't regret it. And no, I won't apologize." With an almost uninterested expression, he stepped away from her, from the window. He casually made his way over to a chair by the fireplace---the very same one he'd sat in during her dream---and she followed him with her eyes. 

"And that's supposed to convince me to help you," she stated flatly. "Or do I even have a choice?" 

"Oh, you always have a choice Sarah," he assured. "You have a choice between putting aside your own personal qualms and cooperating," he flicked invisible lint off his shirt, "And giving into your childish resentment and letting this place that your friends call home"---Sarah's eyes widened at the mention of the friends that she had all but forgotten about---"be destroyed, and them along with it." 

Oh, that was low, bringing up her friends like that, making it seem as if she had somehow chosen to overlook them and their part in this whole thing. And not to mention the four years during which she had failed to keep in contact with them---not for her lack of trying, but simply because she had been _unable_ to do so. 

"Did you have something to do with that? With me not being able to contact them?" she inquired with narrowed eyes. 

He raised an eyebrow, giving her a look that read, "Why would I bother?" He shook his head faintly. "No, that was your own doing." 

And there he went blaming her again for things she knew nothing of! Sarah rolled her eyes heavenward. "How is that my doing?" she ventured in a tone that one might use when humoring a child. 

He didn't seem to appreciate it, she gathered from the slight narrowing of his eyes. "Think about it Sarah," he answered with equal condescension. "With all the new powers and abilities you've acquired, after that night you were never able to call them back? If you really wanted to see them, you should have managed that simple task." 

"I did want to see them!" she exclaimed. "And I did try! It just never worked. Nothing I tried ever worked, except that one time." 

"Because you expected to see what you wanted to see, and you weren't ready to accept what was really there." 

They both stopped short and regarded one another carefully. Somewhere deep inside of her, something was crying to Sarah for discovery, for realization. Something was screaming, like a little red beacon, "here! here! here!" If only she could pin her finger on what. 

"What are you talking about?" 

Jareth let out a disappointed sigh and leaned back in his seat. "Never mind." He shrugged his shoulders, and the defeated look that graced his face but moments earlier quicky disappeared. "You'll find out soon enough anyway." 

It wasn't a very pleasing answer, but she decided not to push it any further. Besides, she had plenty of other issues to worry about until then. "And what about my family? They were expecting me, you know. I probably should have already been there by now." She glanced toward her watch, but the battery must have died out because the little second hand was no longer moving. The other two hands were stuck at a quarter to three. Hmm, her flight had been at four, and she'd been heading to the airport with a little over an hour to go... but it was probably just a coincidence. Or maybe she'd broken it during her struggle with Jareth. She grimaced. Hopefully it was just the battery. 

"No need to worry about that," he waved it off far too easily. To her unconvinced look, he elaborated, "Didn't you notice last time how you returned at the same time your parents arrived home, even after your thirteen hours spent in the labyrinth?" 

"Nine," Sarah corrected sullenly. She was not about to forget the four precious hours he had stolen from her. More importantly, she was not about to let him forget them. 

He rolled his eyes. "Nine," he conceded. "Even so, that would have meant they were returning at perhaps four, five in the morning? Didn't that strike you as a little unusual?" Yes, it had, but it had been just another one of those things she had chalked up to the absurdity of her whole ordeal. There were just so many "unusual" things from that day, that she hadn't thought much of something as little as what time her parents had returned home. 

"So what, you can control time?" It was hard to keep the wonder off her face or out of her voice, but somehow she managed. But maybe he had a _right_ to be so arrogant. 

"No, not so much control it as reorder it," a slight grimace passed over his face as he spoke, but he didn't stop, "And it really only works when you're traveling from one world to the other. Because you came to the Underground from your own world, I was able to distort time so fewer hours passed up there than did down here." 

Still impressive, she thought, though she had no desire to admit it. "And you'll be able to do this the whole time I'm here? My flight was supposed to leave just over an hour after... you showed up. Can you manage that?" 

"I can manage," he replied dryly. "Does this mean you're agreeing to stay?" 

Chewing her lip thoughtfully, she grappled about for any loopholes in their potential agreement. "How long will this be? I mean, how long will it seem to be on this end of the time warp?" 

Jareth shrugged. "I can't really say. But if it takes too long," he smiled grimly, "Well then, let's just say your services will no longer be required. 

She frowned. "But if I ask you to send me back, before then, will you do it?" 

There was a long pause as he glanced away without replying. It's not as if she planned to bail out on him---them---along the way, but she didn't want to corner herself into any arrangements simply because she hadn't taken the time to clarify the details. 

Finally, he looked back up at her, his eyes betraying nothing as he replied, "Yes." 

"No questions asked?" she continued, pushing a little further. 

"None whatsoever." 

Satisfied, she nodded. "Alright, I'll do it." 

But still, there was a tiny part of her crying out in protest. What are you doing? This is insane! You know you don't owe anyone anything! She soothed that tiny part with false bravado. Relax, I've got it all taken care of. Besides, it wasn't as if she were making a deal with the devil. Just the Goblin King. 

Oh dear god, what had she gotten herself into? 

  
  
**

TBC

**


End file.
